A Mark, A Mission, A Brand, A Scar
by SkySeven
Summary: Four years have passed since the fall of the Dark Lord, and the wizarding world has begun to return to life marked by peace, not war. First fic, part romance, part humor, part adventure. Put em together, and we'll see what we get.
1. A Mark

**Rating**: R. Not sure exactly where this will end up going, but I'm leaving myself room to grow.

**Pairing**: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape

**Disclaimer**: Harry Potter and everything about it belong to the awesomeness that is J.K. Rowling. This is, if anything, just an exercise in writing, and hopefully someone might derive some meaning from it.

**Feedback**: Leave a comment! I plan on trying to reply to every comment.

**Notes**: I've pretty much doubled the length of the first chapter here. And yes, the title/chapter names come from the Dashboard Confessional album.

_**A Mark**_

Breathe in for luck,  
breathe in so deep,  
this air is blessed,  
you share with me.

"Severus Snape, you have a visitor. She will be arriving in five minutes. I thought you might want a little advance notice."

Two heavy eyelids rose slowly, revealing a pair of piercing black eyes. The man moved nothing else … not a muscle twitched, not a word was uttered to signal his acknowledgement. He felt sluggish, not just in body, but in his mind, as well. He had waged a constant mental battle for over twenty years, but now he felt just plain lackadaisical. 

He watched the unfamiliar medi-witch leave, and noticed that she glanced back at him, with a look of…awe? He slowly began to take in his surroundings, merely moving his eyes over the confines of the room. His entire body felt as though it was encased in a lead cask, and it seemed that he was incapable of performing even the most basic physical movement. He tried in vain to lift his head, but that mere moment of strain left him exhausted.

His wand hand twitched slightly as he realized that he was in the infirmary at Hogwarts.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry …both his sanctuary and his hell …

While it had once been his only refuge from the world, and the monster that he had become, his last real memories had been of exile from the only place he had ever called home, and the only people who had ever accepted him. At once, a surge of visions accosted him with the force of a thousand Stunning spells.

The Headmaster … He had killed Albus Dumbledore. He had been appointed Headmaster himself. He had dueled McGonagall and Flitwick. 

_But, what then? _he asked himself.

The final battle had taken place – the Horcruxes were destroyed. Potter, that insufferable twit, had been dueling the Dark Lord on the grounds by Albus' tomb, while Snape had been preventing other Death Eaters from interfering.

Confusion swept over him like cold water, and a moment of panic betrayed itself on his face.

_Who had won?_

For the life of him, Snape couldn't remember anything further. Whoever had won, he must still be in mortal danger. He remembered the threats and the pure hatred on Potter's face when he'd seen Snape at the final battle, not yet having witnessed Snape's memories in the pensive. He also remembered Voldemort's fury when he had realized Snape's duplicity. 

That had been the plan all along, he remembered, to reveal himself as a traitor to the Dark Lord at a moment that would give Harry an opening to finish it once and for all. Of course, the Order never knew that, he thought to himself bitterly. Dumbledore's infuriating insistence on secrecy had dug his grave.

Oh yes, he remembered that glorious moment of betrayal vividly. He had sensed that the duel was reaching a stalemate, even though Potter had become quite a powerful duelist. His face sneered slightly at his own admission. Potter had held his own with the Dark Lord, while still refraining from using Dark Magic, much like Albus had refused to do during his life time – mostly to prove a point. The side of the Right could win without defiling itself. 

That defilement was reserved for Severus. 

Picking his moment carefully, he had firmly stepped into Voldemort's view and torn off his robe and mask, thrown them to the ground, and made a great show of obliterating them with a powerful 'Reducto'.

_Yes, that __was__ immensely satisfying_, Snape remembered with a smirk. 

The Dark Lord had turned, momentarily distracted by the traitor in his midst, and had begun to cast the 'Avada Kedavra' on him, when Harry seized the moment and sent an immensely powerful curse directly at Voldemort's heart. That curse had been the most impressive curse meant for killing, Snape had ever seen. He had felt it 'whoosh' by him, raising every hair on his body, and knocking him to the ground in its wake. But Voldemort had not died, had he? Snape pondered this, his eyebrows furrowing in perplexity. 

He remembered raising his wand at Voldemort right when the Dark Lord had turned to make Potter his target once more. He'd fired his own killing curse. And then …

He remembered no more ….

Snape's eyes widened slightly in fear. He did not think Potter would easily forgive Snape's real and perceived sins, assuming the boy had avoided Voldemort's killing curse in the first place. And the Dark Lord was never benevolent with traitors. 

To ease his panic and protect himself as best he could, given his present condition, he began to go through his once daily preparation to shield his mind, feeling the granite walls of Occlumency erect themselves to hold in his innermost thoughts. He didn't know what was going to happen next, but he was grimly determined to be as prepared as possible for whatever the future might hold for him. 

Without thinking, he reached up to scrub nervously at his face, and he noticed that he was slowly beginning to become more mobile. He tried turning his head. And it seemed that, just minutes before, when he had tried to do the same thing, he had somehow loosened the stiffened neck muscles that had, heretofore, kept his head locked in place. He glanced down at his bare chest from which his plain white sheet had slipped slightly. It was then that he saw it.

There, right in the middle of his chest on his sternum was a six inch, jet black symbol. The snake and scull stood out starkly against his pale skin. His face paled. Nervously, he glanced at his forearm, to find clear, white skin. 

_Trade one for another, I suppose,_ he thought bitterly.

He looked cautiously about him. The sight of the room where he had seen so many students recuperate was actually somewhat comforting. He hadn't been killed yet, and perhaps that was a positive sign. 

_Severus Snape thinking positively? Even while I have the Dark Mark mysteriously grafted to my chest?_He scoffed only because he was still too weak to spit.

He looked silently around the room again, drinking in the familiar sight. Yes, he was definitely at Hogwarts. The cracks in the ceiling of the infirmary probably held the keys to several great prophecies just waiting to be made only complicate his life even more, if Professor Trelawney ever got around to making another one. That old bump of a witch could probably see the Grim in a butterfly, never mind cracks made by years of intense and prolonged magic being performed. Yes, this was definitely Hogwarts. 

And that was definitely Hermione Granger, the insufferable know-it-all, the brains behind the holy trinity, and the one that had undoubtedly kept both of those two reckless boys alive, walking towards him. She wore purple robes, much like the robes he had seen Albus wearing when he'd been Headmaster … only hers were minus the stars. 

She was smiling at him and … wait a minute … _brown eyes can twinkle?_

His face corrected itself into its trademark sneer. He didn't know what was going on, but he did know he sure wasn't going to be happy about it.

Hermione Jane Granger approached the bedside of the withered man with some trepidation. Severus had never been an easy person, and she highly doubted he would be much inclined to be pleasant to her, especially after what he had gone through over the past twenty years, never mind the last four. Still, Hermione, in her "insufferable know-it- all" way, had a plan. 

_Direct and unabashed honesty_, she reasoned, _would do the trick_. 

She had realized several years ago to what extent people had been using the exceedingly pale, beaten man before her. It was high time that someone simply spoke with him without any ulterior motivations. Essentially, she was going to be very Gryffindor. 

_I'm sure that will be exceedingly appealing to him_, she mused. 

Regardless of the way she was imminently expecting to be treated, she really couldn't help herself from beaming at him. After so long, he had finally been able to come home. She regarded his trademark scowl with a slightly snarky expression of her own as she closed the final few feet between them.

"Good morning, Severus, I am glad to find you awake."

A look of shock flashed briefly on his face, before it was quickly replaced with a mocking sneer.

"Just because I am in a debilitated state does not mean that you have the right to call me by my first name, Miss Granger." He was pleased that he was able to say that with his usual biting tone full of malice, though its effect was not nearly as devastating as he'd hoped. For all his efforts to be unpleasant, he was rewarded with only a small smirk from the girl in front of him. 

_How infuriating_, he thought. _I wake up to find myself with a gap in my memory and this insufferable _Gryffindor_ in front of me. Where's Draco when I need him?_

"This is true, Severus, but as the Headmistress of Hogwarts, I generally choose to call individuals by their first name, and ask that they address me in the same manner. Albus instituted that rule when he first took over, and I felt it fitting to carry on his tradition." 

While she didn't really mean to agitate him too much, she did enjoy seeing the look on his face when she'd let it drop that she was Headmistress. She had always believed Dumbledore about Snape's loyalty, and had always deeply respected both his talent, as well as his noble spirit, even if it was masked in cruelty.

"I feel… as though I am severely missing something right now…" he said slowly.

"Do not ask me why right now, but I do know that you are experiencing a form of amnesia. Let me just simply tell you things as they stand. I will then field any and all questions from you, until you are satisfied. Is that acceptable?" He nodded his agreement, and she summoned a chair to his bed side. She looked down on him, studying his face. 

_This poor man has been through so much,_ she thought. 

She hesitated for a moment more. "I would like to say one last thing before I commence our discussion. I have accurate knowledge of the way that you have been used by Dumbledore to fight Voldemort covertly. I can't say that I disagree with the results he procured, but I heartily disagree with his means of achieving them. I want you to know that I trust you completely, and that I have no desire to put you to my own use. I only wish to inform you of the events that are missing from your mind."

She stopped once more. She then smoothly removed his wand from her sleeve and placed it in his weak fingers. "This is yours, I believe." she breathed. "Would you like me to continue?"

He felt, rather than saw, the familiar warm glow in his hand as his fingers touched his wand and welcomed it with covert delight. He gave the new Headmistress a curt nod. 

Hermione closed her eyes and collected her thoughts. 

"The year is 2001. You have been in what the muggles call a "coma" for four years. You entered this state immediately after the fall of Voldemort." She heard his sharp intake of breath. His pitch-black eyes were now hidden behind his eye lids. 

"As you know, Harry and the Dark Lord were dueling out on the grounds, while I was entangled in battle with that bitch, Lestrange." Snape smirked at this show of personality, which made Hermione glance at her hands uncomfortably. "You, I believe, were surreptitiously blocking the Death Eaters from aiding their master through the expert use of the Impendio charm. I must honestly say that I've never seen anything like that in my life."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Headmistress," Snape said, refusing to call her Hermione, and yet maintaining protocol. 

"That was not flattery," she answered mildly. "I told you, you will only hear the truth from me. Anyway, everyone could see that Harry's duel was going nowhere. It was like when Dumbledore dueled Voldemort in the Ministry. They were evenly matched. The magic that both of them were using was well beyond anything that we had ever seen. However, they did reach a stalemate. Harry was too quick to be caught by the killing curse, but he also refused to use it. He seemed to think that he could kill Voldemort without such dark magic. I do believe that you noticed the stalemate as well, and you deemed that as the proper time to reveal your true allegiances to the Dark Lord."

"You have surmised correctly," Snape said simply.

"Your display, which I have to say was very … well done …" This earned another smirk from Snape. "created an opening for Harry, which he quickly seized. The curse that he sent was a muscle paralysis curse. He was aiming to stop Voldemort's heart, I believe. But it did not work. An autopsy, andyes we performed an autopsy on the most feared wizard of all time, showed that he did not have a heart. His blood was being circulated by an extremely complex charm. This was why Harry failed to kill the Dark Lord."

A wave of understanding swept over Snape.

"Harry, expecting the spell to work without complication, was caught off guard when Voldemort continued to live. As a result, he was unable to avoid the Killing Curse completely. He did however manage to block it."

"For being the Headmistress of Hogwarts, you show little understanding of Unforgivable Curses. The Killing Curse cannot be blocked, or parried." he spat.

"For having been in such close proximity with Harry Potter, for so many years, you show little understanding of the power he wields, Severus. He _is_ the most powerful wizard of our time." Hermione quipped. Severus snorted at this, and she regarded him with a small smile before continuing. 

"The muggles have a theory of opposites attracting. Using this theory, Harry created a spell during his seventh year that was the magical polar opposite of the Avada Kedavra. It requires an immense amount of energy, and the caster must have certain intrinsic qualities to use it successfully. The point is that he had been practicing this spell several times a day, for almost a year, in preparation for a moment when he must be ready to react in a moment to the unexpected."

"The resultant explosion of the two spells meeting was extremely potent. It was difficult in the chaos following to ascertain its immediate effect. However, several of us did see a small blazing orb escape from your wand and seek out Voldemort, not unlike a heat-seeking missile." 

"A bit more clarification, please?" Severus ground out. It was obvious he did not like to admit his confusion.

"Oh, right … imagine an object that tracks you down, no matter where you go."

"Ah, perhaps you should endeavour to make yourself clearer, in future." Snape glared pointedly. 

"It is not my fault you know nothing about Muggle warfare!" Hermione retorted stubbornly, arms crossed now. 

"Please proceed, Miss – Headmistress." He caught himself, giving her a sly smile. 

"Fine then," she said, making an obvious attempt to reign in her temper. "You produced some sort of magical orb that killed Voldemort. No one knows what it was, but once the orb touched him, he instantaneously fell to the ground and the orb disappeared. It is safe to say that you did, indeed, kill Voldemort, though no one besides you knows what spell you used. 

"Unfortunately, when it was all over you had fallen to the ground along with the enemy. At first we thought you, too, were dead, but upon further examination, we found you merely unconscious. And, curiously, the Dark Mark had moved from your arm to your chest." Hermione waved her hand between the two body parts for illustration.

Snape suddenly realised his chest was still bare. "Excuse me," he said in clipped, low tones. He looked away from her, as his sallow cheeks colored slightly.

"Oh please, it's not like I haven't seen it all before." she grinned mischievously. 

_Snape…just blushed! _ she gasped internally. She just barely managed to check the giggle she felt pressing to get out. 

Not to be made a spectacle of, Severus attempted to move his sluggish arms to defensively pull the covers up.

"Oh fine …" Hermione muttered, mildly teasing. She reached over and gently pulled the sheet up a few more inches over his pale chest. Her eyes flicked over him briefly as she did it. And two spots of pale pink appeared on her own cheeks. 

Snape, always prescient, did not miss this evidence of her discomfort? Embarrassment? 

_Interesting_, he mused. He regarded her with fathomless eyes, giving away nothing of his thoughts. His scrutiny only made her colour more deeply. 

She cleared her throat officiously in an attempt to regain control of the situation. "In regards to my appointment as Headmistress, I can only say that I was really the only good choice left after the battle. To be perfectly honest, the entire Order was destroyed in that battle. While we had assumed that Voldemort had been trying to take over the school, the truth of the matter is that he had finally found out that most of the professors were active Order members. He was coming to Hogwarts to finish the Order, once and for all. 

"Unfortunately, he was quite successful in his campaign," she said grimly. "I commissioned portraits of every professor killed that day, and I often seek their advice as I go about my duties." Snape was silent with shock, but he did not miss Hermione's very real grief at these losses. 

As it stands right now, Harry is teaching Defense against the Dark Arts, Neville is teaching Herbology and is head of Gryffindor, Luna Lovegood is teaching Divination and is head of Ravenclaw, Draco Malfoy is teaching Potions and is head of Slytherin. Zacharias Smith is teaching Transfiguration and head of Hufflepuff, Ginny Weasley is teaching Charms, and her brother Charley is teaching Ancient Runes. I fill in wherever there is a vacancy, because I am qualified to teach all the classes." She said this with no sense of pride or accomplishment, but yet she eyed Snape warily, as though expecting him to cut her down at any moment for such a bold statement. She still felt she must be careful when speaking of her academic achievements, just as she had been forced to do while still a student.

Surprisingly, he did not take the obvious opportunity. He appraised her for a moment before speaking. "I would have expected nothing less, Headmistress. You were always, of course, brilliant."

For a moment, Hermione felt she might burst into uncharacteristic tears at his unlooked for praise, but she kept her face guarded and disclosed nothing. She had done her best to never let him see her distress over his cruel comments during her school days, and she would be damned if she let herself be visibly pleased by one kind comment now either.

"Thank you." She offered tentatively. He nodded curtly, and the moment passed.

"In regards to your status in the wizarding world, you have been completely cleared of any and all charges brought against you. In fact, the Ministry has awarded you the Order of Merlin First Class for your achievements." 

Snape looked non-plussed. "How can this be? I thought surely some form of punishment …" 

But Hermione held up her hand to stop his protestations, with a smile. "Harry testified on your behalf, and showed the Wizengamot a slightly edited version of the memories that you had given him before the battle. You know the Ministry as well as anyone else. There were those few who still thought punishment was in order, but seeing the memories provided irrefutable proof that you were indeed noble in your actions." 

The young Headmistress carried on without pause. Her composure was impeccable. "In regards to your relationship to Lily Potter, that was left out of the public spotlight. Harry decided that while it was important that enough of the memories should be shown to make your innocence certain, there were certain points that should be kept private."

She paused slightly.

"I believe he hoped that you would appreciate the sentiment. He no longer wishes you any ill will, and he has even gone so far to say that both he and his father made mistakes in their relationships with you. I do not believe that this was easy for him to admit – you know his reverence for his father. I also do not believe him to be ungrateful to you for all you have done. In the past, perhaps, but not now."

She studied Snape closely. For all those years that everyone had hated him, he should have just as much thanks.

"I am sure that my opinion of you is of very little importance to you. And I've no desire whatever to judge you for good or ill. But I do feel the need to extend my thanks for all that you have done for me and those I care about, over the years." She smiled almost shyly. Snape could not miss her sincerity. It made him feel warm, but at the same time made him uncomfortable, as well. He inclined his head in acknowledgement, but said nothing. She seemed to expect nothing more.

"With that being said, I am not exactly sure of your true personality, per se. I'm aware that you were living a double life, and that leads to some ambiguity regarding what was an act and what was real." 

Snape looked up questioningly.

"What I am trying to ask is have you always been a cranky, snappy, bitter man, or was that just your act." She said this with a mirthful expression.

"Is that what I have been? I was rather going for the 'cruel monster' persona, but I suppose cranky, snappy, and bitter must have sufficed. I will cede future interpretations of my personality to you, of course, Headmistress, as it seems that I have been inaccurate in my own evaluation all along." There was humour in his words.

"I see," Hermione chortled. "In any event, regardless of your civility towards any of us from here on forward, we all owe you a debt of gratitude. And I think I can speak for all of us when I say we respect the hardships you endured." 

"That is… appreciated," replied Severus tightly, as he looked down and fumbled with the corner of his bed sheet.

Hermione hurried on to the next subject. "I feel there are two final issues to address. They would be your disposition of the last four years and the mark upon your chest. But, before I begin, would you mind if I asked you one or two rather important questions?"

"Why do I have the feeling that I don't have much of a choice in this matter?." snarked Snape, eyeing her warily.

"Mostly, because you don't. Now, let me ask you, what is the nature and extent of your expertise in Occlumency and Legilimency? Do you need to use your wand?"

"I believe that the term 'virtuoso', might be putting it mildly. I do not say that idly, however. There are plenty of magical skills over which I have not attained complete mastery. You could ask _Minerva_" he said pointedly "to attest to my skills, or lack thereof, at transfiguration. However, even Dumbledore did not trust himself to be able to perform Legilimens on me successfully, and he was highly accomplished. Hence the Unbreakable Vow that he subjected me to. I believe that in and of itself says much." He paused thoughtfully. "Voldemort was indeed the most accomplished Legilimens of our time, though I might be close to him, but my skills in Occlumency were more than sufficient to hide my thoughts from him. This leads me to believe that my skills in Occlumency were slightly better than my proficiency in Legilimens. I can perform both wandlessly, and without speaking the incantation." He finished with a slight shrug and a pointed glance in her direction. 

"Now that I have answered your question, I would be most interested in hearing why you think any of this is relevant."

"I only ask because I believe that you have not been completely alone over the past four years. I think you have been doing some sort of battle with that mark on your chest."

The mention of the mark disturbed him, and he was about to say something when she interrupted him with a raised hand. Moving to sit beside him on his bed, she leaned in to capture his eyes fully with her own.

"Severus, I think that there might be an easier way to do this. I have nothing to hide from you. And the healers have assured me that while you are physically weakened; your magic is fully functional. Use your skills on me. I will not resist, and I feel this will be a far quicker way to impart what I am trying to tell you, one that will allow you to experience some of the more important events that have happened since you've been asleep."

Snape nodded slightly, and piercing her with his obsidian gaze, he entered her mind.

A/N Cracks in the ceiling is a tribute to "The Buried Life", the first fan fic I ever read, and I still think the best. That fic changed my world in a lot of ways, and while I can't even imagine having a similar amount of influence as Kalina Lea's story, in a lot of ways it's why I started writing. My beta, hermionestargazer, pretty much co-wrote this chapter with me. This being my first fic, there was a lot of work to be done on it. She did more then correct grammatical errors. She made this fic what it is right now. I'm deeply indebted.


	2. A Mission

_**I own nothing. J.K. Rowling is a goddess. There… am I covered?**_

_**A Mission**_

"And I knew that you meant it"

Even before Severus understood that Hermione wished for him to use Legilimens on her, he'd already had certain preconceived notions of what he would find stored away in the Headmistress's mind, should he have an opportunity to enter it. Given Severus' long history of manipulating and reading thoughts through Legilimency, he found that he was generally able to make accurate predictions of how an individual's mind would be structured based upon his personal interaction with them. Those he knew to be systematic and methodical would have minds fashioned in a similar manner. Those whose lives were dictated by rash actions, such as a certain annoyance by the name of Harry Potter, would likewise have undisciplined minds.

Because of this reasoning, he was certain that, upon entering the young witch's mind, he would find a systematized timeline of the events that had occurred over the last four years, and nothing more. Nothing to fear, there. And yet now, as he prepared for what he thought was his first foray into Hermione's thoughts, he felt apprehensive of what he would find.

Severus had never once attempted to delude himself that he would survive the final battle with the Dark Lord, and had only hoped that his death would serve as a proper penance for a young man's sins. His own life, he felt, was inconsequential, in the grand scheme of things. But, after Hermione's revelation to him about his part in defeating Voldemort, as well as his apparent redemption in the eyes of the wizarding community, for the first time, he felt as if he had something precious to lose – something he had desired for the longest of times.

And the Dark Mark seemed to weigh just as heavily on his chest as it had on his arm.

So, when he entered the Headmistress's mind, to be find warm, gentle arms welcoming him softly into a comforting embrace, he was, to say the least, surprised. But, the most distressing thing about it was that he never once felt the need to pull away from her. It was like someone was telling him that it was okay, to be vulnerable, to be scared, to show fear.

It was like coming home. He could have wept.

After what seemed like an eternity enveloped in her 'arms', he looked up to behold his mind's image of her, and saw her tear-stained face.

"_You are safe here, Severus. It's time you knew_."

His confusion was pressing on him, but then he simply nodded, trusting in the strange familiarity of her presence.

And then, he slowly began to retrace her memories, starting from the panicked moment when she had first burst into the hospital wing to find him comatose after the final battle.

_Fear_, he pondered wonderingly. _She felt fear_.

He saw how she slowly retracted the white sheet covering him, to bring to her view the Dark Mark for the first time. He felt her fingers on his bare chest, as she attempted to discern what curse was holding him. He felt a brief moment of hopelessness flicker in her, and then, dogged determination as she took her place by his side, praying for a sign.

And he watched as he, himself, became the answer to her prayers.

He felt himself reach out to her for the first time. He felt her startled confusion as he sought refuge in her mind, from the terrible curse whose captive he had become. He felt his own agony again, as he clung to her in his desperation. And the undeniable relief as she took him to her and held him just as tightly, and for a moment, bore the effects of the curse herself.

He could sense that she was overwhelmed by the heaviness of it, but, as he panted with relief, she only held him the tighter. She did so for as long as she could, until she was bowing under the evil force trying to take them both. Then, regret in her weary brown eyes, she released him, and gave him a weak mental push out of her mind, leaving him to his misery and paralysis. In that moment, he felt more abandoned then he had ever felt before in his life.

He felt lost.

Now, as these events continued to unfold, Severus left his unconscious self on the bed, and followed Hermione as she fled the hospital wing

She ran down the dark corridors of Hogwarts towards the observation tower. Corridors she and her friends had used to joke about the "dungeon bat" and the "greasy git." He felt her unabashed shame. In turn, he felt her urgency as she banged loudly on the heavy wooden door, tapping her foot impatiently as she waited, nervously chewing on her lower lip.

"What is it, Hermione?" asked a groggy Harry Potter, looking very recently removed from his bed.

"I need to know everything that Professor Snape taught you about Occlumency - the quicker the better," she said breathlessly, not attempting to hide the urgency in her voice.

Harry scrubbed at his face in an attempt to wake himself up fully. "Well, all right," he said slowly, as he stepped back to let her into his rooms.

Hermione came briskly through, a look of great impatience on her face. Harry knew, by her look that now was not the time to question her further, despite his great curiousity.

"Well," he began slowly. "what I remember the most from those sessions was just being terrified. Snape never let up, or would allow me to rest. He made it almost impossible to do the spell successfully…"

"Harry! I don't need to know about how horrible it was. I was there every night when you came back from the dungeons. I need to know how to perform Occlumency!" The note of desperation in her voice made Harry stare at her for a moment. But he still did not ask the myriad of questions on his mind.

"Well, now there I can help you, I think. By the time the final battle came around, I had been able to practice without Snape badgering me, and had become fairly accomplished. I think he actually would have been impressed."

His mirthful chuckle was met with stony silence. He sobered up immediately.

"Okay," he held his hands up defensively, "you have _that_ look on your face, so I'm not even going to ask why you need a crash course in Occlumency …" He paused, as if giving her a chance to speak, but Hermione only pursed her lips resolutely. Harry sighed and shook his head. "Come on, let's get started right away."

He led Hermione into his quarters proper, and seated her on a comfortable chair in his study.

"Now, there are really two types of Occlumency. Each is used for different purposes, but both are based on the use of emotions. The first type is the kind with which Snape was so expert. It involves making oneself devoid of all emotion, then essentially selectively picking and choosing what the Legilimens sees and does not see.

"Obviously, I was horrendous at this - you know, with my Gryffindor rashness and all." Harry rolled his eyes. "I think this only made Snape hate me more. Honestly, knowing you, I doubt that you would be good at this type, either." He paused to look at Hermione thoughtfully before continuing.

"What I learned at the Ministry, in our fifth year when Voldemort tried to possess me, is that while blocking out emotion is one type of Occlumency, channeling emotion is another. It's almost like projecting a Patronus Charm. Focusing singularly on one thought, or one emotion, can prevent someone from invading your mind, as well." Harry finished.

"So, the projected thought or emotion acts as a shield, keeping the Legilimens from seeing anything more important behind it?" asked Hermione, her famed curiosity glinting in her eyes.

"That's right," replied Harry "I've also been able to project one thought while thinking of another. For example, once, while in the presence of Lord Voldemort, I threw up a thought of a golden ring. Voldemort took this to mean that I was thinking of a Horcrux, but the power of the image prevented him from reaching any further. In reality, I was thinking of the ring that I would someday give Ginny. It was a very effective front."

Hermione nodded eagerly. "I think I understand."

"I knew you would." Harry grinned.

"Well, let's practice," Hermione said, squaring her shoulders in preparation. "But please be gentle with me at first. I've never had someone perform Legilimens on me – besides once." she hastily added.

This drew another curious look from Harry, but true to his word, he didn't ask.

"Don't worry, Hermione, you don't think I'd treat you the way Snape treated me, do you?"

Snape watched in awe as Hermione and Potter carried on a grueling practice session. Time and again, Hermione landed on the floor, panting with the effort of rebuffing Potter's attempts to take her mind. But, she kept going, dogged determination in every line of her increasingly pale face.

He had to grudgingly admit that Potter was a fair teacher, and his skill in both Legilimency and Occlumency was … noteworthy. But, he could not help but wonder if Potter would have been so eager to teach Hermione the skills she so avidly sought to learn, if he had known on whose behalf she wished to employ them.

"_Now, now, Severus, no sour grapes," _a softly recriminating voice chided him He had forgotten that Hermione was with him, for the moment. He scowled.

But then, with a whirl of color and a faint 'whooshing' noise, the scene changed. Andhe was following her back up to her room after her practice session with Harry. She collapsed on her bed, exhausted from her day of mental exertion.

She shook her head, thinking of the poor man lying in the hospital wing, and felt sick at the depth of cruelty that Voldemort had had to have attained to enslave another human being in so heinous a way.

The Headmistress's chambers were in stark contrast to the dungeons where Severus normally abided. Drapes of gold and red fell gracefully from the top of the window to the floor, framing a view of the Forbidden Forest. Hermione's bed was a simple twin, set in a deep mahogany frame.

Severus' 'eyes' traveled over to her bookcase, a great ceiling to floor affair that was positively stuffed with magical reference books of all descriptions. He sensed a spell on it, and as he probed for its use, he realised the shelves were linked magically to the Hogwarts library. Hermione need never leave her quarters if she needed a book that was not immediately available to her.

"_Bloody genius_," he thought "_I wonder who came up with that spell_?"

"_I'll take that as a compliment, Severus_."

It was the second time she had reminded him of her presence.

Slightly miffed, Severus ignored her comment.

"_How is it that you are able to talk with me, even while I am performing Legilimens on __you?__ Here I am trying to figure out what's happened to me … __at your behest, mind you__, and __you feel the need to interpose your thoughts--again_"

He could feel the warmth of her smile at his characteristic defense. He was amazed at how familiar this all felt.

Had those really been her arms holding him mere moments ago?

"_I'm not sure of that myself, but I do know that __it has been happening__ for more than three years. I think that more will become clear to you as my memories progress. _

_And yes, those were my arms. Now that you know, I only hope that at some __point__ you will be able to enter into my embrace willingly__—on all levels of your consciousness__. You need not worry about pretenses; I __can assure you that__ have none__. I unabashedly admit to caring for you._"

Severus scoffed in a vain attempt to hide himself. That embrace … her embrace … was quite unlike anything he had ever experienced.

_An embrace of the mind_, he muttered to himself, ignoring the fact that she could feel his thoughts.

"_It appears, as usual, that I have little choice for the moment, as it seems that I owe some debt of gratitude to you_." He could only hope he had injected the proper amount of snark into his 'comment'.

"_You haven't seen anything yet, Severus_." Severus couldn't see it, but he could have sworn that she had just metaphysically winked at him.

_Very un-Mss Granger like, _he mused.

"_You might find several things to be very unlike the girl that used to be Miss Granger, Severus_." She glowed at him.

"_Alright, that's enough. I __**know**__ you can read my mind while I'm here with you. At least pretend for a while you can't. Let me get used to this. Clearly, you are just as infuriating as you used to be!_"

He was finding it much more difficult to put malice into his words when he knew she could judge his true thoughts from false projections. And he knew his true feelings weren't nearly as harsh as his words indicated.

Hermione merely began to hum to herself serenely.

He couldn't help but smirk, as he remembered Dumbledore doing the same thing after one of Severus' particularly bitter remarks … long ago.

Severus was ripped from his reverie as Hermione began to show him a new thought thread. He followed in her memory down to the hospital wing once more, where his memory self still laid, the Mark glaring ominously from his chest. He felt himself tighten slightly with sudden apprehension.

"_It is time, Severus. Brace yourself," _she said softly. He felt himself tighten slightly with sudden apprehension.

He felt his imprisoned past escape into Hermione's mind, and felt her brace against the force of the curse.

Her defenses held for a matter of minutes, and for those brief moments, he felt his imprisoned self collapse into her in relief. A frown crossed her face, as she held against the onslaught, biting her lower lip in concentration.

Severus reached out further, searching for the thought that she was using to shield her own mind from the oppressively heavy power of the Dark Mark, while at the same time reaching for him protectively

"_You're looking in the wrong place _" Hermione sing-songed in her mind.

"_Ah, now that's very much like the insufferable __know-it-all__ I'm used to_." he fumed.

"_It's an emotion, Severus. You're looking into my mind for thoughts… you need to look into my heart._"

"_But that's impossible… the spell allows me to read minds, not feelings of the heart_. _That's first year knowledge, __**Headmistress**_" he gritted out.

"_But you're wrong Severus. The spell has allowed you to feel __my heart__ once already. __What you are experiencing is different__, because the feeling isn't being used against you__. I know that is not what you are used to …_" She let him ponder that thought for a few moments.

"_You __are speaking of__ when I first entered your mind. When you took me into your arms_"

"_Yes._"

"_That had happened before, hadn't __it_?"

"_Many times, Severus_" she whispered. He now knew why he hadn't had any desire to pull away from her.

"_You used that feeling to shield me from the effects of the Mark?_"

"_Yes._" She paused slightly. "_The power that the Dark Lord knows not, Severus_."

Snape paused for just a beat.

"_Show me, Hermione_."

She took him into her arms again, and this time he held her as well. He searched her thoughts and emotions while they held each other – two lost souls, seeking their counterpoint in the other.

He found her love.

Yes, he found love. It wasn't silly, and immature. It wasn't complicated and jealous. It was simple. It was pure. And he was awed by it. He squeezed her slightly.

"_I just don't know how you could have any positive feeling towards me, Hermione, never mind love. I have done horrible things. You must have seen __that in my mind._" His thought voice was strained. The words sounded forced.

"_And you have done noble things, Severus. From the first time you sought me, the first time you clung to me in desperation, I __sensed__ your heart. You have __sensed__ mine as well, and while you may not remember specifically, I do believe that it has influenced you in a small way_."

She gently continued "_Whether you're just very out of practice, or my __heart-on-the-sleeve__ Gryffindor sentiments have been rubbing off on you, your verbal insults just aren't as potent as they once were. You also seem to be just a tad more optimistic __than is your usual habit_" she batted at him without malice.

A small mental snort escaped him. He was sure he was just 'out of practice'. And as to him being in the least optimistic … That was absurd! He would not dignify such an assertion with any reply.

Hermione chuckled softly. Snape glowered.

"_Severus, I don't think you need to watch the next four years __now_," Hermione said, as they broke their mental embrace, "_as I can summarize fairly accurately what happened_."

"_My shield for you was potent, very potent __apparently__, but I was not disciplined enough __at first __to keep it up indefinitely. So, I built my strength by __spending time__ with you, every day, for __a bit longer each time__. At first, I thought it was just me getting stronger, but over time I realized that I could hold our embrace longer because the curse was getting weaker__ as well. _

"_Apparently, the curse was adversely affected by __our interaction __the purity of our embrace. By the end of our four years together, __I __was able to__stay with you for hours on end,__ shielding you from that infernal curse__. And __I believe that it's finally broken, as you don't seem to be held hostage by it any longer_."

"_And you __did __all that for me?_" he breathed.

"_Yes, Severus. Does it make sense now why I __could not help but beam __at you when I __saw you__ this morning?_"

"I thought it was because the_ Head of Hogwarts __must__ inherit the talent for that blasted twinkling Albus was so known for, as well_." He scowled.

"_I don't think so,_" Hermione said, a smile in her voice. "_I just don't think you were ever willing to see it in me before._"

Severus huffed. "_Well, Headmistress – Hermione, where does this leave us in the present_?" She smiled at his use of her name.

"_I personally think that it would do you some good to get up and about. Maybe visit with some of us insufferable children that you pretend to hate so much.__She said this teasingly. But all teasing was gone with her next statement._

"_Meanwhile __ I will be here with you. __You __know my feelings for you–they are pure, __and__ they are very real. I don't mean to push, but I would at least like __you to consider sharing your company with me sometimes."_

"_I believe that I __might __find that… amenable_." He felt Hermione's genuine happiness at his acquiescence.

Suddenly, Hermione pushed him out of her mind with such force that Severus came back to reality with a start.

"Just so you don't get any ideas." she said, teasing mischief in her eyes.

"Well really! It isn't well-mannered to abuse one so recently awakened from a comatose state." He played along, grateful that she had taken it upon herself to lighten a decidedly weighty moment.

"Well in that case, lets get you up and moving so that my values of right and wrong won't be subject to your judgment when I abuse you in the future." she winked.

And with that, Hermione and Severus began the day.

_**A/N: Once again, thank you to my wonderful, wonderful beta hermionestargranger. She is incredibly talented, and I highly recommend you check out her fics as well. Feedback is appreciated! This chapter was the most difficult I've written (out of all 2 chapters…), and I'd like to hear what you think!! Any guesses how Hermione is going to get Severus and those insufferable brats to get along? **_

_**Hint: Shared misery, and mutual disrespect for a ludicrous muggle event is a very effective bonding tool for angsty young wizards and cantankerous dark ones as well ;)**_


	3. A Brand

A Brand

"And you kissed me like you meant it."

Most people would think that beginning a day with Severus Snape would be a challenge.

But, beginning a day with Severus Snape after he has been comatose for four years, well, that was essentially the situational equivalent of convincing Severus to give Gryffindor house points to Harry Potter during potions class.

In other words, nigh on impossible …

Severus seemed to be of the opinion that Hermione's small interventions were not helpful to his gradual easing back into the wizarding world.

"What do you mean all you have available for me to wear is light blue robes? And why can't they be charmed to a darker color!?" His voice was blistering in its accusatory tone.

"Severus, any insinuations that you might be making are highly unfounded," she replied sweetly, "though I can see your level of paranoia has not decreased over the years."

"The Ministry simply deemed that robes should not be able to be transfigured or charmed in any way that would change its appearance, in light of the way Death Eaters were quickly able to disguise themselves after confrontations with Aurors."

At that particular moment, she didn't feel the overwhelming need to tell him that the silly law had been rescinded after only three days, when public outcry (especially from mothers with several children) threatened to turn the wizarding world into a state of anarchy, so she simply just let that point slide.

_And he would look __**much**__ more appealing in light blue_, she thought.

Severus spluttered. "What utter nonsense! That's the most ludicrous thing that I've ever heard…" he paused, then eyed the robes suspiciously.

"Hermione …" he started slowly, "regardless of your now very potent power and highly esteemed position as Headmistress, you do realize that you are still a Gryffindor …

Hermione nodded, still smiling. She showed no sign of giving ground.

"And you do recall that I am still Slytherin, with a certain … familiarity with, shall we say, persuasive practices."

"Of course, Severus." Hermione flushed slightly.

"And that, while it seems that we have imbued each other with some of our mutual personality traits, a true Slytherin's cunning is vastly superior to the attempts of a Gryffindor that has only attained her skills by close proximity, even for a long duration," he added, his gaze penetrating.

Her hands were clamped together tightly, but she refused to drop her eyes from his. She clutched to her Headmistress's lightly distracted air.

His eyes returned to the robes in question, his face slightly scowling, half in thought, half in disdain.

"Very well, then," he said, "as you wish, Hermione."

He summoned the objectionable, almost _baby blue_ robes and put them on. Hermione looked delighted.

"A noble attempt at manipulation, dear Hermione, if I do say so, myself," said Severus, insisting on having the last word. "But you might find it easier to reach your goal next time if you just ask." A small smile curved his thin lips.

_I win. _he thought, looking imperiously down his nose at her.

Hermione, knowing the game was up, but refusing to cede him the last word, simply quoted Slytherin doctrine and looked as innocent as she could.

"The ends justify the means, dear Severus. Now, shall we go find the others for a spot of tea, and maybe some delightful biscuits?" She turned on her heel, and after pausing slightly to allow Severus to join her, slid her arm into his.

"Of course, I'll have to help you travel there Severus," she remarked with an air of authority, after noticing his surprised look at their interlocked arms. "Good gracious," she said slyly, "after all, you've been comatose for four years!"

On the way to the Headmistress' office, Hermione chattered on about the state of Hogwarts, and Severus weighed the morality of her taking advantage of a man in a weakened state.

He could not remember the last time he had lost so many verbal battles with one person in such a short duration. It seemed as though even when he won, he lost. He had been certain that Hermione would have been flustered into a nervous irrationality and that victory would be easy after he'd outed her dreadful baby blue robe ruse.

_And indeed, I did catch her, hand in the cookie jar, trying to pull one over on me_. Severus' scowl deepened slightly in thought. _The nerve__! The __bloody nerve __of her __to try to manipulate me, __a consummate Slytherin! And in my delicate state of health, too!_

But here he was, wearing damnably cheerful, baby blue robes, somehow.

_How __did__ that __happen__?_ he wondered, as Hermione continued nattering away at his side.

He'd had no problem deducing her deception, but instead of using that to his advantage, he'd decided, against his own inclination, to put the robes on anyway. Why had he acquiesced?

_To curry her favor_, he realized with a shock.

He suddenly felt out of breath. He gasped, which drew Hermione out of her wandering, one-sided dialogue to examine him closely.

"It just hit you, didn't it?" she asked with a knowing smile.

"What on earth are you rambling on about now, Hermione."

"It just hit you, that, however you want to call it, we want to mutually please each other. That you, in return care for me and my feelings. The insufferably know it all, the infuriating girl, whatever. You've come to care for her." She fought hard to keep her emotions neutral.

He found he didn't really have the proper words, and even if he had, the muscles in his jaws didn't seem to be cooperating in the function of opening his mouth to speak.

"You are wondering how I knew that …" she said slowly, watching him, as though she was afraid he would bolt. He only stared at her. Though she did not touch him, she tried to look as comforting as possible.

"I was only able to deduce that, because I lost my breath the moment I realized I cared for the dungeon bat, the greasy git (though, I've fixed the greasy part)," Hermione crinkled her eyes playfully at him to let him know she did not believe her own words, "the one teacher who would never accept my effort in class as anything other than an attempt to be a know-it-all." She stepped nearer to him and lowered her voice, her eyes searching his.

"I, too, lost my capacity to breathe properly when I first knew that I cared for you."

Snape's eyes widened and two spots of colour stained his sallow cheeks, as he returned her intent gaze for several seconds. He felt unaccountably angry.

And Hermione was standing entirely too close to him, he decided.

"At least now I don't have to continue chattering inanely about the 'State of Hogwarts.' Of course that's important, but I was really just stalling to allow you to have your little epiphany." She chuckled lightly.

_Oh bugger_. His thoughts blistered. _But that was it, wasn't it?_ he realized. _I'm not__angry __because she __is__ wrong. __I am angry because she is right._

_Can this be real? Can __it really be--that__ somehow I have formed an attachment to this girl? No,_ he amended, _this woman? Is this some cruel dream?_ He closed his eyes briefly and took a slow, deep breath. _All I want is to go back to that place where we held each other, and I don't give a damn whether I'm wearing black or bloody baby blue robes! What madness is this!?_

"Severus, I'm not sure where exactly your mind is taking you right now, but it's safe to say that any major revelation you're having, I've also experienced it."

He looked at her skeptically.

"Think about it objectively – there was no love lost between either of us before the war. Maybe some amount of grudging respect, but no more. We both experienced the last four years, me consciously, and you unconsciously. All the thoughts that will begin to surface, unless I'm very mistaken," she said, taking on her best knowing air, "will be ones I was confronted with at some point over the last few years."

She took a deep breath.

"As such, anything I can do to aid you in dealing with these thoughts …"

That was all she managed to say before Severus reached out to enfold her in his arms, to gently hold her.

Electricity pulsed through them.

Eyes closed, they clung to one another and felt a magical warmth envelope them as a result of their bodies touching.

"I think that this will do just nicely, for the time-being, of course." Severus said, his voice low and husky.

Hermione nuzzled softly into his shoulder, and Severus found his face enveloped by some sort of wild entity that was perched on the top of the Headmistress' head, that seemingly had a very real mind of its own.

He gathered her closer in his arms, and felt her melt into him. A small sigh escaped both of their lips concurrently.

Hermione giggled. Severus offered a dignified chuckle.

"I assume this is the first time that we have physically embraced? Not in the habit of taking advantage of comatose men I hope?"

Hermione blushed furiously, then furious with herself for blushing, quickly shot back, "Of course not. I felt that our mental embraces were the most important anyway."

Severus eyed her quietly. He hadn't noticed that they had come to a stop in front of the headmistress' office, the grumpy gargoyle still standing guard.

"But imagine," he breathed "undertaking both at once."

She felt her skin tighten and goose bumps rise on her arms. An interesting idea indeed.

Hermione broke away first, feeling the need to regain some of her vaunted composure.

Severus, as well, seemed slightly shaken by the intensity of the feeling behind their embrace. It was unlike anything either had ever felt. They hadn't embraced urgently, or with much fervor; they had simply held each other, and felt the ripple of emotion that interacted between them.

"Lemon drop," she commanded, as the gargoyle leapt out of the way, and performed a small bow.

"Well, that's new" said Severus in astonishment. "It seems the castle has given you a level of respect it has accorded no other."

Her eyes twinkled.

"Well, the gargoyle has never done that before. I'm inclined to say the bow was more directed towards the present company." She gestured at him.

He cast a quick glance behind his back and opened his mouth to speak. He closed it again.

"Clearly one of Albus's parting practical jokes, that insufferable man. Even from the grave he taunts me." He knew he wasn't fooling anyone, least of all Hermione, with his mock irritation. "Shall we, Headmistress?"

As they ascended the stairs to the Headmistresses office, Severus found he had the time to take the full view of the Headmistress, as she had neglected to "help" him up the stairs, the only bloody part of the trip that he might have needed help. He wondered if this was also part of her scheme, to show him how she had matured… in more ways than one. Maybe she really was turning into a Slytherin after all.

A small smile played at his lips.

Reaching the top of the stairs, slightly out of breath, Hermione took his arm smoothly and guided him into the office. He glowered at her.

"I hardly need someone to 'guide' me anywhere, Hermione. Although I've been unconscious for four years, I do remember where this office is quite clearly."

When he looked up, there stood the bane of his existence, Harry Potter, and the rest of the remaining survivors from Dumbledore's Army, now the teaching staff of Hogwarts.

"Why do I feel, Miss Gr – Headmistress, like I've been set up somehow?"

"I think I might just agree with you right there, Severus." Harry cast a somewhat accusatory look towards Hermione, who was smiling sweetly as she looked around the room.

Severus, for his part, did his best not to flinch when _Potter_ called him by his first name.

"I'd like to take this opportunity to say a few words." said Hermione, "First, regarding the devilishly handsome wizard on whose arm I am currently leaning … He's just recently stopped pouting about his wonderful new robes," Harry made a strange coughing sound. "so I don't want to hear anything about his rather uncharacteristic appearance. Also, he's only just this morning awoken from four years of suffering from a brutal curse, so we must all be nice to him." She turned and gave Severus a small wink. "And, try not to take advantage of him, as he is in such a 'delicate' state."

Severus muttered something indiscernible underneath his breath. All Harry caught of it was "worse then Dumbledore himself…" and he found himself sniggering. He had a feeling that Severus would bring some personality back to the mundane that had begun to infiltrate Hogwarts for him.

"Now," She clapped her hands together. "the reason I called you all here is to inform you that today we will be having a faculty retreat day!" She was clearly caught up in what she thought was the brilliance of her idea.

Memories of a teenage Hermione, oblivious to the outside world's views, knitting house-elves' socks rushed back to everyone in the room immediately. They knew innately that nothing they could say would convince Hermione of the ludicrousness of this idea.

Harry was, of course, the first to try, however.

"But Hermione, we've all known each other for ages. What on earth do we need a retreat for?"

"Well, muggles have these extraordinary team building exercises that I think could be really useful to us members of the faculty!" Enthusiasm glowed in her eyes and everyone in the room realized it was futile to dissent further. They all knew a lost cause when they saw it.

"So … I've created a port-key all of our use in getting to our destination. I'd like everyone to meet back here in one hour prepared for an overnight stay at the Estelon. Food and provisions will be provided, though I dare say you might have to work for it."

Severus was just now beginning to deduce that the twinkle in her eye was generally an indicator of mischief about to break out. That would be useful to file away for future use.

"Anyway, I'll see you all in an hour! Severus, I'd like to ask that you stay here with me for the time being."

Several of the other teachers glanced back at the two of them with a small smirk.

_Was it that obvious?_ Severus asked himself with a small mental sigh.

"Have fun, Severus." Harry said, eyeing him with a wide grin.

_Apparently, __we must be, if Potter has caught on. _Severus gave Potter a dignified nod in response, feigning ignorance of anything to which his erstwhile nemesis might be alluding. Potter was the last to bound out of the room.

"Now then," Hermione said, her eyes twinkling far too brightly, "let's get ready!"

The Estelon was a modest cottage in the heart of … somewhere. It was unplottable after all. What could be said about it is that like most magical homes, it was far larger on the inside than it would appear to be from its outside presentation. It had several large, heavily foliated oak trees on both sides of it, and a weathered cedar wood deck with several tables and chairs around the back. The property the cottage resided on was cleared and manicured, with a small path leading from the deck down to a small pond, where a rudimentary dock secured a small rowboat from the battering of drifting winds.

All in all, it seemed like a fairly stereotypical muggle household.

The present occupants, however, were anything but 'stereotypical'.

One by one, the inhabitants emerged from the back of the house to take seats around one of the larger tables on the deck.

First came a bushy-haired young woman, who seemed to almost skip over to her chair. She waited in a state of slight agitation.

Next came a young man with equally untidy, though not at all bushy, jet black hair, who seemed to be casting questioning looks at the bushy-haired woman.

Five or six other young individuals came out of the back door and took their seats around the table. The one thing that the whole party had in common was that they all wore billowing robes, and over those robes were white muggle t-shirts, which said in large, exclamatory letters "Hogwarts Retreat, 2001". No one seemed particularly happy to be there, besides the bushy haired woman, whose excitement only seemed to ratchet up a notch with each new arrival to the table.

The group sat in silence for a few moments, until an older man stepped through the threshold, the look on his face a cross between utter disdain, and pure misery.

The bushy-haired girl beamed.

"One word, Potter," Snape held up one finger to emphasize his point, "and I will not be accountable for my actions."

Harry bit back a smile, as he tried to secure in his mind for later amusement the image of Severus Snape, the feared Potions master, the vanquisher of Voldemort, wearing a white, muggle retreat t-shirt.

Harry tried. He really did – but self restraint wasn't his strongest suit.

"Severus, I think it goes well with your eyes." he remarked dryly, gesturing at the t-shirt, and attempting to keep the playful smile from his lips.

Hermione closed her eyes with a sigh.

She didn't want to see the duel she felt was about to break out between Harry and Severus.

_Why __do __men have to be so pugnacious!_ she thought with a mental eye-roll.

A deep bellowing sound erupted from somewhere across the table, and she wondered what kind of strange spell incantation it might be. Hermione had never heard it before.

When she opened her eyes, she caught the tail end of Severus' laugh, and the beautiful smile that had been on his face.

"One point to you Harry, for your _surprisingly_ dry wit."

"I don't think you can give house points to me, as I'm a teacher now, Severus." Harry said with growing mirth.

"Oh, I'm quite aware," he said, looking sly, "what I meant is 'Harry - One, Severus – Zero'—for now." His eyes were laughing, and his face showed tell-tale signs of amusement. "I am quite sure I'll catch up quickly." he added with a barely discernable wink.

Harry looked at him in shock. Snape ignored him in favour of turning a critical eye on Hermione.

"Now then, what is it that you have drug us out here, against our will to do, Headmistress?"

Hermione, it seemed, was also in shock. She was looking back and forth between Harry and Severus, her mouth agape, her eyes wide. As a result, she did not register Severus' question, much less answer it.

Harry had that quizzical look on his face that reminded her of their school days after she had said or done something he could not immediately grasp. And Severus' face was simply unreadable.

"Hermione?"

"Hermione!" Harry said again, more forcefully.

With somewhat of a jolt she came back to her senses, though still in wonderment about the interaction she had just seen.

"Um, well, yes, what is it?" she asked, still a bit flustered.

"What on earth are we doing here?" asked Neville with a chuckle.

"Oh yes!" Hermione cried, clapping her hands together. "We're going to start out with a muggle team-building exercise. The first thing we need to do is split up into teams of two. Severus, Luna, Neville, and Draco, write down your names, and put them in this hat." She conjured said hat with an easy flourish of her wand.

"Harry, Ginny, Zacharias and I will now pull names from the hat, and the person who we draw will be our partner for the exercise. I'll go first, okay?" Hermione's eyes were sparkling with enthusiasm.

No one seemed to be too eager to get the "team-building exercise" started, so no opposition was presented to their leader's suggestion of going first.

"Neville! You and me! It'll be just like old times!" Neville blushed, remembering his previous incompetence during their school years. He cast a furtive look at Severus, who eyed him with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh don't you mind him. He's just jealous." Hermione said with a slight twinkle.

Severus did not refute her observation.

As the drawing went on, Ginny was paired with Luna, and Zacharias with Draco. That left one name still in the hat. And one person to pull it.

Severus and Harry gave each other a meaningful look.

"It seems as though I'll have the opportunity to catch up even sooner than I thought, Mr. Potter." Severus said, casting a smirk and a scowl at him simultaneously.

His facial expressions had always been world class.

"Indeed, _Severus,_" drawled Harry, slightly drawing out the "S" in Severus' name with mock taunting.

Severus quirked an eyebrow at his former nemesis. Hermione, for her part, had caught on to the game and chose not to acknowledge it, lest Severus feel in the spotlight. She went on with her directions.

"Inside these bags, you will find instructions for the activity. In each room of the house there is a package of materials to use for the task. You are free to use anything else you find. You have two hours to complete the task, before we meet back on the deck to compare and test the products of our labors."

Someone, or everyone, it was tough to tell, exhaled in a deep sigh. The last thing anyone wanted was two hours of work on a Saturday.

"Have I neglected to add that the winning team will be exempt from chaperoning Hogsmeade weekends for the entire year?" asked Hermione innocently.

Hermione's parting words had sent everyone running inside to begin work.

"Listen, you open the box of supplies, and I'll read the directions, okay?" asked Harry, as both he and Severus raced up the stairs to the nearest open room.

"Fine, fine ..." muttered Severus. "What's it say?"

"It says, 'In the box you will find an egg. At the end of the two hours, we will be dropping the egg off of the roof of the cottage. Your goal is to build a construct that will protect the egg in its fall. The team with the best container wins the prize. Containers will be judged by appearance, and efficacy. No magic allowed!'"

"Well that's just ludicrous! It's as if she wants us to be like muggles!" exclaimed Severus.

"Yeah!" Harry agreed. "It's like she wants us to gain an appreciation for them!" He winked.

Severus' face was etched into a deep scowl.

"Ha, ha, ha." Severus intoned blandly. "That's two for you Potter. Don't expect to get any more." he said. But his lips turned up slightly.

"Now, on to the task at hand. Do you have any idea how to use those muggle contraptions … I think they're called drills."

"I have no idea. I lived in a cupboard, remember?"

"Ah, true …" Severus mused.

"How would we even get one anyway? What's in the box?"

"Surprisingly… nothing, it seems." said Severus, as he lifted the lid to the box and peered into it again.

"Wait a minute …" Severus said slowly, re-examining the box.

"Brilliant. The witch is bloody brilliant. I would be willing to bet that she charmed each of these boxes to be like miniature Rooms of Requirement. Anything that we need, we should be able to procure from this box at will." explained Severus. "Why else would the box be empty? It's the only thing that makes sense."

Harry nodded and screwed up his eyes in concentration." Well, I'm in need of a perfect egg container thingy." Harry opened the box expectantly.

The interior of the box continued to meet gaze with emptiness.

_Bloody hell, you don't give an inch, do you, Hermione?_ Harry thought with a deep sigh.

"Okay," said Harry, scratching his face absently. "What kind of container do we know of that's hard and dense?"

"I suppose your head wouldn't be a suitable vessel would it …" Severus drawled. Oh, this is great!

Harry's eyes twinkled. Point for Severus.

"I do remember, though, when Dudley used to get packages for his birthday, they used to come in these boxes filled with this foam, and it used to protect his gifts. Maybe we could use something like that?"

"Perhaps, but what about the appearance aspect? I don't want to lose this competition because my dim-witted assistant/muggle expert had a limited imagination. I suggest that we ask the box for a book that will show us some attractive, secure boxes. Then we can come up with something that is documented to work well."

"Severus, you and Hermione really were made for each other." Harry said, shaking his head, an incredulous grin on his face.

Severus' cheeks flushed slightly, and he looked away, pinning his gaze on the mysterious box.

"Bloody hell, Snape, you're blushing!" Harry chuckled. "But while we're on the subject …" he continued tentatively. "I still can't believe this is happening between the two of you." Snape's eyes snapped up to regard Harry warily. Harry hurried to qualify his statement. "I didn't mean it like that. I suppose she just spent so much time with you over the last four years … I mean, it didn't even seem to be a strain on her. It was like she needed you, every bit as much as you needed her. She'd go to you when she was totally stressed out and come back relaxed. It was amazing." Harry's face was full of wonderment.

Severus looked down at his hands.

"I'm not exactly sure how it happened. I know she did a great deal for me while I was being held captive by the curse. We felt each other during that time, and we seemed to form some kind of a bond. It's the most powerful thing I've ever felt."

Harry looked him straight in the eye and nodded slowly. He knew he had no right to grant "approval", but he still wanted Severus to know that he thought him a worthy man for Hermione.

"However it happened," Harry said in low tones, "I am glad it did." Severus smiled a very small, slightly embarrassed smile.

_Time to let him off the hook, _Harry thought.

"Anyway," Harry cleared his throat nervously, "I already tried wishing for the book while you were insulting my hard head. I think Hermione put some sort of uber-charm on the box that made sure that we came up with the idea on our own. As you noted, she is kinda brilliant like that, after all."

"Oh, very well. Let's make a wooden box filled with that foam you mentioned. Then we'll paint the outside something bright and despicably flowery. Who's judging this anyway? It didn't say in the instructions."

"I'm not sure, but I'm pretty sure that Hermione has something up her sleeve." replied Harry.

"I believe that I may be of some assistance in this matter," offered a voice coming from a portrait on one of the walls. Severus and Harry turned to observe Dumbledore's cheery countenance beaming at them.

"Albus, speaking of having something up one's sleeve … glad that you could join us. I am sure you will find no limit to your amusement as Harry and I humiliate ourselves trying to make sense of our young Headmistress's latest inane idea," responded Severus, part seriously, part jokingly. "I'm sure you wouldn't miss this for the world."

"Quite right," said Dumbledore, peering over his half-moon glasses at them with laughing eyes. "I have to say the versatility that portrait travel offers is quite remarkable. I've been able to visit every team so far, to see how they have been progressing."

He looked at the progress (or lack thereof) they had made with an unassuming air.

"So then, you would know what type of boxes the other teams are trying to make!" said Harry excitedly, obviously hoping that they would be able to gain a strategic advantage over the other teams.

"Boxes? Is that what you are making? That _is_ unique." Dumbledore said, quite amused.

"Excuse me. Albus. Are you implying that the other teams are doing something different? You do know we are not allowed to use magic," Snape said suspiciously.

"Oh, I am well aware; I was the one who chose this challenge, to ensure that the Headmistress had no prior knowledge and no advantage. I saw it on an episode of _Full House _… a muggle television show. It seemed like quite a good time," he said with a chuckle in his voice.

"I should have deduced that you had a hand in this ridiculous idea, Albus," Severus sniffed. "Now, if you'll excuse us, we'll have to get back to our box, which will be superior to anything the other teams come up with to rival it."

Dumbledore laughed softly and was gone.

"Meddling old fool," muttered Severus.

Harry looked amused.

"Now," said Severus to Harry, "do you know how to use a 'hammer'?"

Two hours later, covered in muggle paint, with two bruised thumbs (the victims of inadvertent hammer strokes), and a glowing sense of accomplishment, Severus and Harry gingerly carried their egg containment box out on to the roof. The paint was still drying, but as Harry had insisted that everything important in the muggle world had a good "paint job", the pair had been putting the finishing touches on their box until the very last moment. Regardless, they had decided to cover their box with a tarp, so that they could "unveil" their masterpiece with a dramatic flair. This had been, predictably, Severus idea.

They were the last to arrive, and they found the other groups standing on the slate roof, nervously pacing or talking in low voices, and eyeing the competition. What had initially started out as something silly had become quite a serious affair. After all, not having to chaperone students in Hogsmeade was serious business.

"Now that everyone's here …" said Hermione, throwing a pointed glance at Harry and Severus, who at the exact same moment gave rather innocent expressions and looked around questioningly. Hermione had the urge to laugh, but just barely contained herself by biting her lip. "I think that we should begin with the appearance portion of the competition."

"To judge," she flicked her wand, summoning a floppy dark object, "I have brought the Sorting Hat. It's the most unbiased entity I could think of."

"Severus, Harry, that means it's time to 'unveil' your grand masterpiece, in as overly dramatic a fashion as you can manage, as I am sure is your plan." sighed Hermione with a healthy eye roll.

Harry and Severus exchanged a knowing look. They had spent a good deal of time discussing the "presentation", as Severus called it.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," said Harry.

"We give to you …" said Severus.

"_Custodius!_" they said in unison, as Severus withdrew the canvass with a practiced flourish to which only he could attain, through years of cape billowing and swishing.

A small gasp escaped Neville, as the group gazed on the crudely made wooden box. It was painted bright pink, with a bright blue sky and butterflies flitting about under a too large sun. Closer examination showed the sun to be a cheerfully beaming 'smiley face'.

Severus gave his best sneer, but started chuckling despite himself. Try as he might, he just couldn't keep a straight face looking at that garish box.

"I think it's wonderful!" cried Hermione, as she threw herself into Severus' arms, as if he had made the box just for her. She pulled back slightly, and brown eyes met black. Both radiated.

"Hey now," said Neville, slightly shocked by the display … and not just of the pink box, "no fraternizing with the enemy until the competition is over."

"Oh, of course," said Hermione, giving Severus an endearing look, and letting her hand linger on his as she walked away. His hand tingled where she had touched him.

One by one, the vessels of the other teams were revealed. Some looked like over-sized pillows. Hermione's and Neville's looked simply like a Gryffindor robe wrapped around a small compartment.

The sorting hat made its observations, and silently ranked the competitors.

"The winner: _Custodias_!" it proclaimed after due consideration.

Harry did his happy dance. Severus allowed himself a small fist pump, but quickly affected a bored expression. His thoughts turned to whether Hermione might give him a congratulatory kiss.

Hermione, for her part, was pondering the same thing.

"Well now," Hermione said, refocusing, "I suppose it's time to move on to the actual practical portion of the competition. The one that _actually_ counts." Hermione, for all of her graces, was not the best loser. "The winner of the appearance competition will go first."

Severus offered her a stiff nod.

The height from which the eggs in their vehicles were to be dropped approached twenty-five feet, and one had to be precariously close to the downward sloping edge to drop an object. The box that Harry and Severus had constructed was in itself three feet wide and a similar height. This proved to make gracefully dropping the box off the side of the roof, without going over themselves, something of a challenge.

After a few failed attempts to get close enough to the side (which was very entertaining to the losing teams), the two decided to use their prodigious combined intellects to come up with a clever solution.

"On the count of three, and not a moment sooner, Potter." Severus said with growing agitation.

"Right, right, I'm well aware of how to count!" Harry spat back in reply.

Even noting the agitation that was in both men's voices, Hermione watched Harry and Severus working together with a sense of intense pride and relief. Since Ron had died at the onset of the final battle, these two men were the most important people in her life. They were the two people she had never thought would ever be able to be in the same room together. And yet there they were, bantering back and forth like two brothers.

"Three!" cried Harry, as he and Severus heaved the box over the edge of the roof. For a moment, as the box reached its apex, the scene seemed to be almost surreal. Severus Snape, in his baby blue robes and white muggle t-shirt, had a look of exhilaration on his face. Harry Potter was smiling widely—while in the presence of Severus Snape.

Yes, times had really changed.

The onlookers peered off the side of the roof, and watched as _Custodias_ hit the hard wooden deck. It appeared that neither Severus nor Harry were very well versed in any form of stress engineering, as the box splintered into several pieces, and a poof of styro-foam peanuts swelled out. Severus and Harry held their collective breath in uncertainty. Had their egg survived?

Harry floated off the roof, landing lightly on the deck, and started carefully rummaging through the rubble looking for the egg. Hermione gently put her hand on Severus' back as he continued to watch intently over the edge. The warmth that spread from her hand, and the electricity of her touch made him want to turn around, draw her into his arms and kiss her—egg or no egg.

A shout of triumph erupted from below them, as Harry held up an unharmed, completely intact egg.

"I really don't see what the big fuss is about." Severus said sourly. "From what I was told, the competition was to prevent the egg from breaking. Just because our box shattered doesn't mean that it didn't do its' job." He paused slightly, attempting to formulate his next words. "Your 'parachute' contraption was very ... interesting. I was impressed with its efficacy."

Hermione smiled slightly to herself, as she took in their beautiful surroundings. It was mid-evening at the Estelon, and after a delicious dinner, Severus and she had gone down to the dock to sit and enjoy the evening alone together.

"Severus, I think your box was wonderful," she said soothingly "and I think that it's wonderful that you worked so well with Harry." She softly lowered her head onto his shoulder.

"Yes, yes, he isn't as bad as I thought him to be all those years ago, I know." Severus felt that Hermione putting her head on his shoulder somehow softened the blow of having to admit that Harry wasn't a complete dimwit.

He put his arm around her and drew her closer. As she nestled her head into the crook of his neck, he felt her body relax.

"This may sound very foolish, Hermione, but I do have to ask myself every fifteen minutes or so if any of this is real." He looked and felt a bit uncomfortable. "While I'm starting to remember some of our shared ... experiences of the past years, it still seems like just a moment ago I was fighting Death Eaters at Dumbledore's grave. I can hardly believe that I am now here, sitting with you, feeling emotions I'm not sure I've ever experienced in my life."

There was a small, comfortable silence, as they basked in each other's warmth.

"What about Lily?" asked Hermione. "Didn't you feel some of these emotions with her?"

"Yes, some," conceded Severus. "The difference is that she never reciprocated my feelings."

There was a gentle pause.

"It is one thing to love, Hermione. A beautiful thing, at that." he said softly, "but it's something completely different to be loved in return." He drew her closer to him.

She looked up, and her brown eyes seemed to envelope him.

A kiss.

A brand.

A scar.

**Many thanks to my fabulous fabulous fabulous beta hermionestargazer. For the 5 people that read this fic, this is for you. It was a lot longer than expected, and a lot harder. I hope you enjoy.**


	4. A Scar

**My dear readers, it has been some time since I posted. This is the final chapter. It is short and simple, as I honestly think this story should end. Thank you for your reviews. I own nothing.**

**A Scar**

Severus Snape is not by nature a ticklish man. In fact, he liked to think that his bearing was above such trifling idiocies.

And yet every morning, there would be a ticklish sensation around his nose that often invited a light sneeze, which would promptly wake him up. He'd snort once or twice, and then recalcitrantly burrow his formidable nose into the offending mane of hair.

A small purr would emit from his wife, and she'd snuggle further into his chest, lightly kissing his scarred skin. He would wonder briefly what he had done right in his life to deserve a woman who would react to his innate recalcitrance with a sound like that.

He would look over to his clothing chest, with sunlight just now beginning to stream through the windows, and see the pictures of his son and daughter, twins with bushy black hair, who had just finished their fifth year at Hogwarts, both at the head of the class.

He would reflect on his life for a moment, and think that maybe, just maybe, Dumbledore wasn't truly a meddling old fool, and that his twinkling had seen something in him that no one ever had before. Until Hermione.

Then he'd take a deep breath, inhaling his partner's light floral scent, kiss her through her tangle of hair, and fall back into peaceful sleep.

His last conscious thought would be of a slight tickle under his nose.

All was well.


End file.
